Where the Lost Things Go
by HecateA
Summary: Harry knows how far away Teddy's father feels, but there's a trick to these things. Oneshot. Written for the House Competition, Round 1 Drabble.


**Legal disclaimer:** The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Content warning:** N/A

**Author's note:** In an effort to procrastinate, I slipped and wrote about Teddy Lupin, which is a surprise to absolutely nobody. Shoutout to K, who is the friend I text spontaneous and sad Marauders facts to regularly. Enjoy!

**Submitting info for the House Competition:**

**House: **Hufflepuff

**Year: **Second year

**Category: **Drabble, First Round

**Prompt: **[Animal] Stag/Doe

**Word Count: **889

* * *

**Where the Lost Things Go**

* * *

_Do you ever dream_

_Or reminisce?_

_Wondering where to find_

_What you truly miss_

_Well maybe all those things_

_That you love so_

_Are waiting in the place_

_Where the lost things go_

-Emily Blunt, _The Place Where Lost Things Go_

Teddy was sitting on the back porch, watching fireflies zip across the Burrow's garden. He was so lost in his thoughts that his hair flickered yellow, synchronizing with the insects.

Harry smiled, and closed the door behind him to go sit on the steps next to his godson.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

Teddy's voice had changed over the last school year, and it baffled Harry.

"It's unlike you to be out here all by yourself when you could be trying and failing to beat Ron at chess for the umpteenth time," Harry said.

_Or pursuing your other hobby of snogging Victoire_, he couldn't help but think. That was another weird development. Nobody had told Harry how strange it would be to watch a previously innocent, if awkward to hold, ball of blankets grow up. He actively dreaded watching his next three kids grow up—not to mention all those nieces and nephews the Weasley family kept producing…

"Yeah," Teddy said. "I'm fine."

"You do know that Auror training involves lie detection and I personally teach that workshop," Harry said. Teddy didn't react, so he got blunt. "Look, I understand if being at the Burrow on Father's Day is awkward for you. I'm not your dad."

Teddy looked at Harry with big, wide eyes.

"Harry, that's not what I…"

"I know, it doesn't mean anything bad, it's just true," Harry said. "I'm just not your father. It was like that with Sirius, for me. I loved him so, so much. And he was _like_ a father, but sometimes the likeness just makes it clearer that my dad was gone."

"I don't know," Teddy said. "This is dumb, it shouldn't matter, but it's a full moon tonight so I'm… I think about him more when it's the full moon. He'd probably hate that."

"He'd think that was hilarious," Harry said. "You know, the closest I could ever get to my father was thanks to yours."

"What do you mean?"

Harry drew his wand. "_Expecto patronum_."

The stag burst out of his wand, galloping through the air as per usual. Its powerful, lithe form slowed to a trot. It looked around swiftly, like any good guardian though it would stay on high alert like any other prey animal. Once the coast was clear, it simply trotted around the garden—thankfully, its hooves didn't crush Mrs. Weasley's cabbages. It bent down and grazed.

"Why is it doing that?" Teddy laughed. "It can't eat."

"I really don't know, actually," Harry said. "But I've seen it do it a thousand times. You remember how I told you that the Marauders were Animagi? Well, James was Prongs—a stag. He's my Patronus."

"Wow," Teddy said, eyes fixated on the stag, which moved to a new spot of grass. In the night, its silvery glow was especially enchanting.

"After the war, when you were little, I conjured him all the time," Harry said. "I felt so alone and the stag helped, I just loved watching him. Having a good reason to get up, go sit outside, and remember to be happy was really powerful. I was taught how to conjure him to fight against dementors, but really there's a million reasons that someone might need a bit of protecting and comfort."

Teddy was still looking at the stag.

"Did my dad teach you how to cast it?" Teddy asked.

"Best teacher I ever had," Harry said nodding.

"Mum's Patronus was a wolf," he said. "Gran told me."

"I think your dad's was, too," Harry said. "He just didn't like to admit it. I don't know what yours would be, and it's really advanced magic, but I could try and teach you if you want."

Teddy looked up at him and grinned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think I could do it?" Teddy asked, going right from lanky sixteen-year-old to bright-eyed child.

"There's no harm in trying," Harry said.

Teddy grinned. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"I have the day off tomorrow," Harry said. "We'll do it then, okay?"

"Okay," Teddy said. Jittery, he tapped his foot against the ground before bouncing up. "I'll go tell Victoire!"

"Right, because you two are expert conversationalists," Harry said. Teddy made a face before heading back inside the Burrow, leaving Harry alone with the stag. Harry clicked his tongue to get its attention, and the stag circled back to him. It bowed its head, and Harry ran a hand along its neck. Only in recent years had the stag gotten strong enough, corporeal enough, to touch. He figured that the kids and the strength of the memories they sparked did the trick. The Patronus cocked its head to the side in a bizarrely human way.

"I think this is the kind of Dad you would've been," Harry said quietly.

The stag winked, which made him smile.

"I should go back in, too," Harry said. "I'll see you later."

He never dismissed the Patronus. He simply watched the stag turn around and trot away from the house, disappearing into the neighbouring apple orchard of its own accord.


End file.
